


invictus

by twice_royal



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Drabble, Gen, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 10:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3525590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twice_royal/pseuds/twice_royal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who needs superpowers when you can have <i> this? </i> she wonders, euphoric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	invictus

Her story starts in a dark place.   
She pulls herself out  
( _bloody but unbowed_ )  
and this story ends in the sun.

***

 

She learns to find the sweetness in the ache of her muscles,  
the glassy sheen of sweat that sticks to her skin, her hair.  
She practices until she can’t think and her limbs feel boneless and she can barely stand and she is gasping for oxygen.   
Her fingers sting, but that’s the easiest part —   
(she’s a cellist, you know)  
— they callus quickly.  
  
She remembers the first time she gets it right, staring at the perfect clump of arrows at the center of the target,  
bowstring still singing. Her exhale turns into a triumphant shout and she punches the air, ignoring her protesting body. It doesn’t mater.  
Who needs superpowers when you can have  _this_? she wonders, euphoric.

***

_But I bet whatever it is that’s in me is maybe in you_  he says and she feels something in her chest swell and tighten   
because he gets   
that she gets this.  
_  
I’m a big girl, Clint._

_***_

So she holds her head high when she goes,  
avoids the sketchy rest stops at night, takes breaks every three hours so the dog can pee and her legs won’t cramp up.  
When she catches herself staring at her phone in the soft sunset glow of some flyover state (cursor blinking in a blank message, not to late to turn around, Kate),  
it’s easier than she thought it would be to turn it off.  
She is diamond-hard, titanium strong. Steel. She made herself into this and she is ready for whatever the City of Angels has for her because she  
is  
unbreakable.  
Her mouth curves into a smile. She stuffs her phone in the glove compartment and flips the radio on. The car hums beneath her, roars when she presses the gas. She turns west. She’ll make it to Nevada by nightfall.  
  
Time to go on.

***

_I thank whatever gods may be  
For my unconquerable soul._

**Author's Note:**

> This was a little exercise that I originally put on Tumblr. It turned out less prose-y than I expected, but I liked it so I figured I'd post it anyway. Inspired by the Henley poem.


End file.
